flaccid white skin and
silence over breakfast. the
broken, the beaten over-the-hill
sorry baby but you're gonna die the words
pour out and never stop.
pound pound pound, the pounding of
your heart it beats in rhythm
blood in your ears
your veins.
the color of your eyes is red.
silence stretches
fills the air thick as
blackstrap molasses
and covers your nose
you cannot breathe or
cry out
to the heavens or to
God.
is He there?

wet grass
dew on your toenails
bitten and bruised
run run run
don't stop because they'll get you
hiding from demons
running.
a gallery of paintings black
beneath a weeping willow
thank you goya
and don't you stop
they're ahead of you
thin white legs flash in evening sunlight
and you die
a sudden death
no breath
eyes still open
still red.
and no one knows you're gone.